Aslan's Country
by CS June
Summary: During the Golden Age of Narnia a young woman is established as Queen of the Western Wild. When a pact is signed between her and the High King Peter of Narnia it appears that they have more in common than just royalty.
1. Wild No More

Disclaimer- C.S. Lewis owns the land of Narnia and its respective characters.

**Aslan's Country **by CS June

During the Golden Age of Narnia a young woman is established as Queen of the Western Wild. When a pact is signed between her and the High King Peter of Narnia it appears that they have more in common than just royalty.

-

**Chapter One – Wild No More**

She stood wringing her hands unnecessarily tight. No one had ever cultivated the lands of the west. Those were the lands of infinite mountain ranges and dusty flat plains; mountains where no snow capped their rugged peaks and winters were dry and bitterly cold. It was in the west where green was sparse, and water sparser. No regime had ever ruled the land. A rule was a concept not fathomable by the inhabitants of the Western Wild, that was, until now.

"All hail Queen Emma!"

Shouts rang out in all directions. The rampant hollers recoiled off the mountains sides multiplying their noise.

"Queen Emma! Queen Emma!" They chanted throwing up banners of black and gold embellished with falcons.

The young woman held herself erect, fighting the urge to hide her face or to elicit some other nervous habit. Now the sounds of trumpets escalated into the air, a sole male voice began a soft hymn of the newly establish royal ballad.

"_All hail to the Queen,_

_Who tamed the Wild Lands._

_All hail to the West,_

_As her mighty Falcon soars._

_All hail to the West,_

_That it may be,_

_Eternally blest!"_

The rowdy crowd grew silent as the voices of thousands began to sing the ballad as one.

Several men stood of into the distance shaking their weary heads sorrowfully.

"It is truly a sad day."

"Indeed." Said another.

One of the younger one with fiery brown eyes raised his voice. "Real freedom lies in wildness, not in civilization."

"I agree."

"Yes. Yes." They began to whisper in their small coterie.

-

Thus it begins with the establishment of law and order, comes the shadow of crime and chaos.

* * *

Pardon the short introduction chapter. You should note that the summary is simply a small part of this story so stay tuned for more. And please don't forget to review! 

-CSJune


	2. Invitation

Disclaimer- C.S. Lewis owns the land of Narnia and its respective characters.

**Aslan's Country **by CS June

During the Golden Age of Narnia a young woman is established as Queen of the Western Wild. When a pact is signed between her and the High King Peter of Narnia it appears that they have more in common than just royalty.

-

**Chapter Two – Invitation**

She prodded around the room with the voices of her royal entourage badgering her with pressing matters of royal precedent, foreign affairs, and domestic affairs. The young queen raised her hand and silence swept the room.

"Please leave me for now."

"Yes, my queen." The consorts muttered softly before leaving the large hall.

Queen Emma was graced with chestnut hair and pale skin, which was now several shades darker do to the west's seemingly infinite rain of sun. Her languid gray eyes roamed the vacant room. '_This really needs to be better furnished.' _She mused to the stone-laden walls_. 'I suppose it is to be expected.'_ Her thoughts jumped around wildly before there was soft knock on the doors.

"Enter."

A small, plump man with wild eyes entered. "Your Highness, a message of dire importance awaits."

The queen raised a brow. "What is it dear Peuter?"

"There has been a request from Cair Paravel for Your Grace to attend their yearly festival."

"Is it diplomatic?"

"Nay, Your Highness. It is, and I quote, 'A simple request for her Majesty, Queen Emma of the Western Wilds, to attend a feast so that we Kings and Queens of Narnia may get to know our noble neighbor.' It is signed by the High King Peter of Narnia."

There was a few moments of sullen silence.

"Tell him, that I humbly accept his offer."

A smile lit his face. "I will your Highness."

"And Peuter," The queen stood from her chair. "Have a party ready to leave for Cair Paravel first thing in the morning."

"I will. Good rest, Your Highness." Peuter quickly bowed and left the room.

The sun was dying below the western plains as the queen fiddled absentmindedly with her necklace. '_Oh dear. This job only seems to get harder with time._' She began to undress into her night clothes and slipped into bed. The novice queen was quite unsure with herself; royalty was something you read about in books, it did not actually exist in her present-day world, well at least not such an absolute form of it.

As she drifted off to sleep, she thought of her home back in England - a whole different world away - of her little house in Northumberland, near the Scottish border. She thought about how she did not belong here, and how she was no queen back home, just a simple school girl who was known as Emma Mills. She remembered how she had stumbled upon Narnia in a most uncommon way.

-

"Are you excited brother?" Edmund asked amongst the hustle and bustle of the Cair Paravel maids and cooks.

Peter was walking around with an air of calmness about him. "Quite."

"I do wonder what she will look like!" Lucy piped in, her long blond hair tied into a messy knot.

Peter smiled at her. "My dear Lucy, I think you should be worrying about how you look as of now. I hope you will take care to fix your hair before our guests arrive."

Lucy's face mimicked shock. "Why brother, you think I that careless?" Her eyes twinkled with delight.

Susan, who had been staring wishfully out the window, joined in on the conversation. "Of course he doesn't Lucy, but you had better hurry and prepare yourself. Going on that hunting party was truly a bad decision."

"Hmm! I, Queen Lucy, shall be ready well before our Queen Emma… and Prince Rabadash" She added as an after thought to the annoyance of Susan. "Arrive."

Suddenly a loud yell permeated throughout the castle.

"All hail the Queen Regent, Emma of the Western Wild!"

A slight grin spread on Susan's features. "Really, Lucy?"

* * *

Ah I really cannot believe that I received reviews on such a short chapter! Thank you very much. I hope you'll enjoy this one as well (I rushed to get it out.) I will be gone for the next week so be sure to check back after that! Thanks again to my reviewers, and to those who haven't, please review!

-CSJune


	3. Curiosity & Misconceptions

Disclaimer- C.S. Lewis owns the land of Narnia and its respective characters.

**Aslan's Country **by CS June

During the Golden Age of Narnia a young woman is established as Queen of the Western Wild. When a pact is signed between her and the High King Peter of Narnia it appears that they have more in common than just royalty.

-

**Chapter Three – Curiosity & Misconceptions **

A large crowd gathered around the newly arrived foreign queen. She was adorned in a pale green gown with the sleeves draping from her shoulders. The neckline swooped and pointed downward at the center; a white ivory sash was wrapped around her waist and a gleaming silver band lay atop her head. Her hair was drawn up from the back to form a seamless look. She appeared simple and elegant in the Narnian court, and quickly won the awe and respect of the spectators.

"She looks different than I imagined!" Lucy exclaimed.

"She does." Susan responded.

"What does my dear brother think?" Edmund chided slyly.

Peter, gazing at the queen intently, made no response.

"Well," Edmund began, "Lets have her in the hall for a welcoming feast."

"Indeed!"

-

It hadn't been quite what she expected. She was surprised at the genial nature of the Cair Paravel courts and of its inhabitants, primary the talking beasts and mystical half beasts, half men. Her shock was only momentary for she had been prepped before hand about them, but it was an altogether unique experience nonetheless. Emma was escorted into a spacey, yet welcoming room. Red and gold tassels draped every inch of the stone walls. The two kings and queens entered the room a moment later. Emma watched the youngest, or what she assumed to be the youngest, with bemusement. Queen Lucy had clearly not been expecting her presence, at least, not with the disheveled mop of hair on her head and her unkempt hunting attire. Her tensions were eased at once.

When the hustle of the room had died down the eldest of the siblings spoke, "It is a pleasure to have you here, Queen Emma." He advanced, taking hold of her hand delicately and placing a soft kiss to it. "I am High King Peter." Emma grew tense once again. _There is something about his manner…_ But she hadn't time to think of such things as the second of the four sovereigns came forth. Her beauty was great. She had heard of Queen Susan's exquisiteness and there was no doubting why so many had come before her in courtship. She nodded her head slightly.

"It is a pleasure, Queen Emma." Emma returned her greeting with a smile and a few words of praise. The second king, that was King Edmund, advanced. Emma thought him the slightly more attractive of the two. He reached for her hand as well.

"A pleasure, indeed, my lady."

She smiled. "The same to you."

Finally the youngest stepped forward with as much grace as any. Her fair hair wisped her pale face gently. "Hello, Queen Emma. I apologize for my lack of presence; you see I was rather careless in preparing…"

"Do not fret, dear Lucy! If I must say," She lowered her voice. "Your untidy appearance has somehow managed to ease my tense nerves."

Lucy looked delighted. "I do say! I like you very much!"

The other siblings grew apprehensive with Lucy's informal behavior and Emma could feel it. "Do not worry Kings and Queen of Narnia. It is by Queen Lucy that I have received the warmest of welcoming and all is right." She glanced pleasantly at Lucy, who, she now deemed a friend.

-

The dinner was a pleasant event for Emma that was, except, for King Peter's dauntingly wary demeanor of her through out the whole occasion. Emma was quite keen to fix whatever unjust misconception he seemed to have on her. _I shall meet with him later tonight._ She beckoned for her consort.

"Give this to High King Peter." She handed him a small note.

"Yes, your highness."

She had watched King Peter intently as he eyes scanned the small note, but she could detect no interest in his face. Emma grew restless as the night progressed. Entertainers, singers, and an occasional bard were provided during the dinner. Emma watched curiously at the different customs of Narnia. _It seems so much like England's royalty. _She mused as the final performer left the stage. Peter stood from the table.

"It has been an honor having you, Emma. If you would please follow Mr. Tumnus," his gaze landed on the faun. "He will escort you to your room." Emma nodded after giving the High King a rather fixed stare.

Once she was settled in her room she called for her closest adviser, Moneo, to enter. A man with graying hair and a kind face entered. He was in middle age with a small beard lining his jaw and chin; his eyes were coffee and sparkled in the candle light.

"Yes, Emma?"

"I am concerned, Moneo. I fear that King Peter holds some sort of animosity toward me and I do not know what I should do." She paused, her brows furrowed in thought. "I cannot have such a powerful enemy as Narnia."

He stood silent for a moment. "Why do you think this?"

She looked up at him from her chair. "Could you not tell? I was under the impression that King Peter was an affable king, not a looming nemesis, which, he displayed as his character quite evidently tonight."

"Perhaps he is simply curious."

Emma huffed. "Well curiosity is not fitting of a king."

Moneo looked amused. "And it is fitting for a queen?"

She raised a brow. "You always speak in riddles, Moneo."

"That is because you understand them."

She let out a slight chuckle. "It seems you are accusing me of curiosity. It's a nasty habit, it is."

Moneo paced the heavily ornate room. "I would not worry much about it, Your Grace. I should think you have proved yourself worthy of great affection from at least one of the queens. I am sure the others will follow suite. You're rather likable, you know."

"Ha! Well I am glad you try not to brown nose me too much!" She added, amused.

"Well, do not lose much sleep over it." He bowed. "Good night my queen."

"Good rest, Moneo."

As soon as he left the room the queen jumped up. Her whole body seemed on edge. She knew she couldn't blow her first impression. Her kingdom's survival depended on it.

There was a soft knock on the door. Emma halted. _I wonder…_ She opened the door hesitantly. Her eyes grew wide at what it revealed.

"King Peter?"

* * *

Can I say how excited I am about this story? I just got back and I have to say some brilliant ideas popped into my head while I was on vacation. Thanks to my reviewers! And I hope you will continue to read, and for those whole haven't reviewed, please do!  
Also, I hope you don't mind my vagueness. My writing style is not one of great descriptiveness, I want my readers to use their imagination, but if you find this annoying I wouldn't mind hearing about it. ) 


	4. Seek & Find

_Disclaimer- C.S. Lewis owns the land of Narnia and its respective characters._

**Aslan's Country **by CS June

During the Golden Age of Narnia a young woman is established as Queen of the Western Wild. When a pact is signed between her and the High King Peter of Narnia it appears that they have more in common than just royalty.

-

**Chapter Four – Seek & Find**

Peter stood there in the dim lighted hall, a shadow cast on part of his features. "I wish to apologize, Queen Emma, I have come to realize my behavior was not fitting for a high king, whether my reasons for being withdrawn are substantial or not. I am not sure if you could find it to forgive me?"

"I should think," She began rather hesitantly, "That your apology will suffice." Emma cleared her throat. "That is, only if you tell me why you were being so rude, King Peter."

He seemed surprised at her reaction. "You may call me Peter, if you wish."

"I don't." She replied curtly. _Ah! I am not fit for this sort of royal formality. I am much too sarcastic! I would get quite a verbal abuse from Moneo for that one._

The corners of his lips turned upward. "I dare say, you are quite witty, Queen Emma."

"Emma, please." She now felt extremely silly for her stubborn refusal.

"Very well. I must say that Emma is a beautiful name."

"I will tell my mother you think so." Emma grew tense, a sentiment she'd been feeling often.

"Hmm." He gazed at her intently; she grew more uncomfortable.

"You should come in." She moved from the doorway to a small table near the window where she fiddled nervously with her necklace.

He sat down musing at her unnaturally light skin, for a Westerner that was. She was tall and lean, two uncommon characteristics amongst the stockier build of the west. "I cannot help but wonder at your origins." He began, "I can only imagine that your parents were from Narnia or Archenland perhaps ?"

"England."

His mouth opened slightly. "That sounds so familiar…" It hadn't been the reaction she'd expected. "So familiar…"

Emma sighed. _Could he have honestly forgotten? Or perhaps he never knew of England to begin with?_ But she would not allow herself to think that, for it was common knowledge that the four siblings, the kings and queens of Narnia, had come from another world, her only concern was if it was her own and she very much hoped it was.

Peter looked back to Emma. "It's as though I've heard of that in a dream. Where is it?"

"I am sorry, I don't think you'll know where it is." She said softly.

"Ah." Peter looked fixedly into Emma's eyes. "No, I do!" He exclaimed suddenly. "I cannot believe I have forgotten England! It is my home land… Ah, it has been a long time, yes." He glanced elsewhere for a time. "But," He returned his gaze, "I don't understand… Aslan, he never said anything about a fifth human being here…"

Emma took a deep breath. "I haven't been here as long as you, King Peter."

"Ah. Please Emma, I would really prefer if you dropped the formalities."

"Okay, Peter."

More silence beckoned.

Emma spoke once more. "I wonder what- I mean, the legends say that you and your siblings came into Narnia through a… a wardrobe?" She leaned forward intently now, her eyes aflame with desperation. Peter was taken aback. "Do you remember where it was?"

"I am afraid," Peter brushed a hand through his long hair. "I do not remember."

Emma fell back into the chair, a look of defeat adorned her sad features. _I will never get home…_ "Please, you must remember? How could you forget such a momentous event?"

"I am sorry but Emma, I do _not_ remember" Peter felt a gnawing sense he had stuck a major blow to this queen's morale. He felt slightly ashamed.

She messaged the back of her neck. "I am sorry. Please leave now."

He frowned. "You have not found out why I was so _rude_, as you put it, earlier tonight."

Emma looked at Peter's face, with his honey golden beard and his soft auburn eyes which clearly held compassion. She felt absolutely wretched, but Emma was no longer in the mood for company. "We all have our reasons for acting a certain way, Peter. It is none of my business to pry."

"Perhaps I could help? I could have a party sent to look…"

The young woman stood. "Please do not trouble yourself with my petty concerns…" She walked to the door and held it open. "But tell me, have you honestly never wanted to go back home?" Peter appeared perplexed at this question.

"Never. Narnia is my home."

"I see." She mused. "I fear I may have to leave earlier than I thought… some concerns have arisen in the west that I must attend to." She did not meet his gaze.

"I have offended you."

She closed her eyes, wearily. "No, you have not. I came here searching for hope. Hope is a terrible thing, did you know that Peter?"

Peter stepped closer and rested a hand on her arm. "I do not know what ails you Emma. I should asume that you miss your home, but if it is any comfort, I was once told by someone very wise that those who seek shall find."

Emma smiled. "Sounds like a very wise man, indeed."

"Ah, well, it wasn't a man."

"Hmm…" She said feeling a little less hapless. "I beg to differ." Peter opened his mouth to refute. "Good night King Peter, perhaps not all hope is lost after all!"

"No, hope is never lost." He grew contemplative. "Good night to you Queen, and I hope you will change your mind about your stay. My sister, Lucy, has grown quite fond of you." With that he quietly left the room.

She could feel her spirits rise. _How could I have forgotten You? Ah, I feel ashamed!…_ _I wonder, does he know You in our world?_ She was answered by silence. _I should like to meet You in this world. I hear You take the form of a Lion in Narnia. How fitting! _Emma fell on her bed. _Goodnight, my Lord._

-

As Emma slipped into bed she had the sudden urge to tell Peter the truth, that she knew "Aslan" already, but by a different name, back home in England. It had been quite an earnest prayer of hers that brought her into Narnia. However, for the life of her, it seems she had forgotten that keen prayer, but Emma Mills would remember it one day...

* * *

I imagine my short chapters are annoying, I know, if I had more patience the chapters would be longer, but alas, I do not! I hope you liked this chapter, and yea- I am going to stick to the biblical allegory that C.S. Lewis used, however, it is not going to be the primary focus of my story. Romance and drama shall! 

Please take the time to comment, and for those who have thank you very much!

I made some revisions to this chapter based on Arianna of Bellezza insightful review. I hope this flows better.

-C.S. June


	5. Tale of a Queen Part 1

Disclaimer- C.S. Lewis owns the land of Narnia and its respective characters.

**Aslan's Country **by CS June

During the Golden Age of Narnia a young woman is established as Queen of the Western Wild. When a pact is signed between her and the High King Peter of Narnia it appears that they have more in common than just royalty.

-

**Chapter Five – Tale of a Queen Part 1 **

Emma sat slumped over the table with her chin resting neatly in her palm as she lightly tapped her finger against her lips. She had always been a very wise and contemplative character at home in England and in Narnia she was no different except, that was, for the fact that her usually contemplative state meant pressing matters of dire importance. Today, however, she was going hunting with the Narnia siblings. Her attire was natural; she wore loose gray pants with tightly woven skinned boots, a dull-colored blouse and a chocolate vest and her hair was wrapped neatly up. Emma took a deep breath of the fresh Narnian air.

She would relish the moment to be free of the burdens of a queen.

-

The four Pevensies sat upon their elegant horses as Emma trotted out on her golden mare to greet them.

"Hello!" she said happily.

"Hello!" Each greeted her back.

"Tis' a fine day for a hunt, is it not?" She asked as she settled herself between Edmund and Lucy.

Edmund replied, "It is."

"Hmm." Lucy muttered nonchalantly. "I wonder-" She became silent leaving her companions to glance curiously her way. "Oh, I'll ask you later, Emma. For now, let us ride!" Lucy whipped out her bow and galloped off into the woods, the others not far behind.

The first few minutes of riding produced little results and the quest for prey grew wearisome. At this time Lucy decided to quench her curiosity.

"Emma, if it is all right with you, our brother, Peter, told us that you came from England." She paused. "I do not remember it well... but I know they do." She glanced towards her siblings. "And they are quite curious to know where you came from and how you got here and became established as a queen, but they are much to prudish in their ways of royal standard to ask themselves."

Emma chuckled. "Well, I don't think it a very grand story, compared to your's that is, but I will glady tell you the tale."

The four siblings drew close. "This should be quite interesting!" exclaimed Susan.

"I look forward to it as well," Peter said.

Emma reseated herself. "All right," she began. "It is a long and troublesome story..."

-

It was around the year 1000 (In Narnian time) that Emma Mills curiously found herself in Narnia. This was about thirteen years ago from their present hunting trip (At this, Peter interrupted saying that she told him she hadn't been there as long as he, to which she simply shrugged and said 'Forgive me.') It was also the time that the White Witch's power was being to fail over Narnia. She had woken up, or rather "swum up" in Narnia. Emma remembered feeling the dampness about her- it had been a cold and dark place. Her eyes fluttered open as she tried to breathe, but only allowed water to cascade in. In a frenzied panic she swam up, or at least what she thought to be up, and reached the surface gasping for air in the darkness that surrounded her. She waded in the water for minutes, fear engulfing her more and more. No logical thoughts swept across her mind, only chaos.

After finally making up her mind she swam steadily to her right, where, within a few minutes, her feet fell upon a soft surface. She swam quicker now, desperate to get out of the murky swamp and onto familiar dry land. When she had finally pulled her self from the water she fell to her knees, her hair hung in her face and tears began to fall. _Where am I? _Finally she summoned enough composure to pick herself up and squinted to view her shadowy surroundings. Steadily, her eyes distinguished various objects, _Trees? Trees with no leaves? It must be winter- but, it is not cold._ She wrapped her arms around; her wet clothes giving her slight chills. Emma took a few hesitant steps forward and noticed her feet were bare. _Ah._ She frowned. _I must continue straight. There must be something here- someone here. _At the time, Emma did not realize what good company solitude was, but she was soon to find out. She walked further into the barren woods, careful to step lightly on the broken twigs beneath her feat. Emma shuddered at the eerie quietness that surrounded her, and somehow found herself wishing for some foreign noise. Her wish was soon to be granted.

Her gray eyes caught a slight flicker of light in the distance. She drew to a halt and let out a heavy sigh, not realizing she had been holding her breathe for quite some time. Emma went on, treading lighter this time, toward the light. Soon it was known to her that the light was a fire; the smell of burning cedar ladened her senses. She walked quietly, careful to let the trees and darkness of the woods conceal her from any unwanted attention. After coming closer she was able to make out shadowy figures around the fire and things which looked awfully like tents. _Camping?_ She wondered. Emma stepped behind one of the more larger trees when she came to be just outside the camp ground. Voices talked animately.

"Ya won't believe this one, Aedai!" a rather heavyset man hollered from the corner of the campsite.

A tall and slender man turned to the speaker. The light reveled his square jaw, which was stubbed with hair, and his hair which was short and messy. "You're right." came his airy reply much to the humor of the other men who sat near the fire.

"No really!" The fat man waddled over. "A sight has not been seen in over a hundred years! The east Everwinter is melting!" _Everwinter?_

Suddenly the laugher died down and a serious mood fell amongst the crowd. "You dare joke, Lassat?" Emma thought their names very peculiar.

"I have seen! I have come from the border! The White Mountains are white no more! Green paints their rocky surface!"

"Impossible." one of the men uttered.

"It has not been so for a long time..."

Several more men spoke up in protest until finally a rather dwarfed man said, "There have been rumors..." He drew the attention of his companions, "That the White Witch has met a formidable enemy."

"But who?" asked the man named, Aedai.

The dwarf-man spoke again. "I shouldn't know! It is only rumors!"

Aedai looked to the fat man, Lassat, again. "Apparently not, if what you say is true."

He nodded furiously. "It is!"

Emma was quite confounded by all of this. _The White Witch? _She wondered momentarily if she were in England at all. Suddenly a twig snapped and she had no time to turn around as heavy arms grabbed her from behind and clasped her mouth shut. A cold object lodged at her throat, a sear of pain shot through her as the blade dug into her skin. All the men stood alert as Emma was dragged by her oppressor into the light, the bade still digging deeper into her neck. Her screams muffled.

Emma dared not breathe, the blade was held much to close to her neck. Her hearted raced and tears flowed as her brain screamed for oxygen. Her view grew hazy as the man, Aedai began to speak to her. She made no attempt to reply as her legs grew wobbly. From the corner of her eye she caught a plump little woman emerge from a tent. She screamed at the men.

"Release her! She's but a child!"

The man holding her muttered and released Emma who fell to the ground.

She felt gentle hands pull her up, and the last thing she remembered was the soft brown eyes and fiery red hair of her savior. Emma fell limp in her arms, thankful and unconscious.

* * *

Thanks for reading and mad props goes to my good friend and genius beta- Natalie. If you like Harry Potter fics go check out her Draco/Ginny one at her profile _xxnatalie_ You won't be disappointed! 

And thanks for all my insightful and encouraging reviews! I hope if you have this story on your 'watch list'- and _you_ know who you are, that you'll comment! Thanks and hope you enjoyed!

-C.S. June


	6. Tale of a Queen Part 2

Disclaimer- C.S. Lewis owns the land of Narnia and its respective characters.

**Aslan's Country **by CS June

During the Golden Age of Narnia a young woman is established as Queen of the Western Wild. When a pact is signed between her and the High King Peter of Narnia it appears that they have more in common than just royalty.

-

**Chapter Six – Tale of a Queen Part 2**

_Suddenly a twig snapped and she had no time to turn around as heavy arms grabbed her from behind and clasped her mouth shut. A cold object lodged at her throat, a sear of pain shot through her as the blade dug into her skin. All the men stood alert as Emma was dragged by her oppressor into the light, the bade still digging deeper into her neck. Her screams muffled. _

_Emma dared not breathe, the blade was held much to close to her neck. Her hearted raced and tears flowed as her brain screamed for oxygen. Her view grew hazy as the man, Aedai began to speak to her. She made no attempt to reply as her legs grew wobbly. From the corner of her eye she caught a plump little woman emerge from a tent. She screamed at the men. _

"_Release her! She's but a child!"_

_The man holding her muttered and released Emma who fell to the ground. _

_She felt gentle hands pull her up, and the last thing she remembered was the soft brown eyes and fiery red hair of her savior. Emma fell limp in her arms, thankful and unconscious._

-

Emma wearily opened her eyes to a bright orange canopy. _Ugh._ She gently messaged her temple. _What a dream! _She squinted more clearly at the orange roof. _What...? _Emma pushed herself up and looked at her foreign surroundings. _Dream. Yes. It must have been. _Her thoughts began to recollect the night before. Her horrifying experience in the water, the strange and barren forest, the fire, _the men! The woman! _Emma jumped to her feet in a frenzy. _Not a dream? Impossible! _She hesitantly peeked out of the tent. There were several more lined up to her right as well as her left. No one stirred within them, nor did she see any people outside. She drew back into the tent to look at her clothes. She was wearing the same large cotton night gown as the night before, her feet were still bear and dirty. Emma's gaze went to the large wooden chest in the corner. With curiosity, she cautiously opened it. Inside there were several articles of clothing; a small white blouse, a long and wrinkled gray pair of knee-length pants, a pair of flats and a black, _bonnet? _She let out a nervous cough which caused her to cringe and grasp at her throat which was wrapped lightly with a piece of cloth. Her shaking finger ran along the gash.

_It really wasn't a dream. _

Her eyes widened. She knew it was impossible, but here she was with a rather nasty cut to her throat, odd clothes at her feet, in, _God only knows where. _After a few moments of bewilderment she quickly dressed into the clothes left for her, or so she presumed. Emma wrapped the black bonnet around her head, slightly thankful for the privacy it provided, and stepped out once again into the camp. She took a deep breath trying to accept the obvious fact that Emma Mills was no longer dreaming.

She wandered further down the desolate camp until she came to the infamous campfire circle she had seen the night before. With a shudder she sat down on a log bench. Her hands wrung nervously in front of her. _Such a nasty habit._ She thought in vain to draw her thoughts away from her current situation. She heard the ground shuffle behind her. The hair on her neck stood up. She drew a quick breath.

"You're awake! Good gracious, you're a strong one aren't you?" It was a warm voice of a woman.

Emma turned around to see a short, plump women with fiery red hair and soft brown eyes. _It's her!_ Emma quickly jumped to her feet.

"Relax dear. You've been through quite an ordeal." The woman saidas her face flickered with momentary annoyance. "What is your name, dear?"

"Emma."

"Emma? What a unique name... however it's quite beautiful."

The color of Emma's cheeks flushed pink. "Thank you."

"I apologize for the clothes... they are but a young boys, but you see, you wandered to a nomadic camp. We are severely limited in our resources, particularly women's resources."

Emma smiled pleasantly. "Thank you. I honestly don't mind. They're quite fitting!"

"Ah! What a pleasant girl! My name is Genetrie and you are in the domain of Nemorosia" She paused, "That is, assuming you are a foreigner."

Emma held her tongue for a moment. "Yes."

"Where are you from?" Genetrie prodded.

She hesitated once again, but preceded,"England."

Genetrie gave her a curious glance. "I have never heard of such place, however, I dare say I am not the wisest and most learned of sorts. Your clothes were highly," She paused, "Interesting."

Emma chuckled. "I am not sure where I am, though, I thinkI can say with certainty that this is no place in England. Where is, eh, Nemosia... in the world?"

The plump woman let out a hearty chuckle. "Nemorosia, and it is just west of the cold and bitter lands of Narnia, northwest to the cruel desert lands of Colormen, and east of vast and scarcely known land."

_Narnia? Calormen?_ Emma felt her self grow weary as she quickly sat back down, her head spinning. "No England? Europe?"

Genetrie looked concerned. "No, dear Emma. I am afraid not. No _Ang-lang_ or _Er-up_ that I know of. I dare say, the others will find you quite interesting..."

Emma glanced curiously at Genetrie. "Idon't understand."

"Ah! Well," Genetrie smiled nervously. "Nor do I, but from the little I have gathered, you might be..."

Suddenly a loud horn wailed throughout the air. The two women turned their heads towards the barren woods in which, Emma assumed, she had ran through last night.

"Oh dear. We must get back to the camp." Genetrie gently guided Emma back towards the camp where men and women began to emerge from the bright tents much to the surprise of Emma.

They pushed their way through the hustle and bustle and planted themselves safely behind one of the central tents.

The highly confused Emma turned to face Genetrie. "I don't understand, what is going on?"

Emma noted as Genetrie's face grew grave. "We live in uneasy times here in Nemorosia, moreover, the west in general." She paused, "We are but one tribe out of twelve who rule this land, and I use _rule_ lightly."

"What's so terrible about that?"

"Oh dear. We are not friends, and most of the tribes, including our own, are barely cordial allies. Often we are at war with one another, and it seems that such warfare is finally beginning to take its toll." Emma listened intently. "The southern Calormen is looking to expand and conquer our torn and broken nation."

Emma remained silent, slowly absorbing the information. _It reminds me so much of my history lessons..._ She mused. _However, this is not history, this is the present for these people._ Emma frowned feeling an overwhelming sympathy for Genetrie. She said rather naively, "Have you tried peace talks?"

Genetrie's frowned increased significantly. "Be still."

Emma turned back to face the woods where a band of men on horses emerged. They were draped in dark robes, a shadow casted upon their features. Her stomach churned with anticipation. One of the front men drew his horse forward and with a wave of his hand all the men, including himself removed their head garments.

"We come in peace."

Emma heard Genetrie gasp.

The man, who's skin was bronzed but his eyes bright spoke again, "Is your council here?" His eyes wandered over the crowds occupants.

A young man with brown hair stepped forward. Genetrie made a significantly loud gasp. Emma only faintly wondered why.

"Who is asking?_" _Asked the young man..

The horseman's gaze quickly snapped back. He glared accusingly at the man before him. "Are you that ignorant? Do your elder tribe men teach you nothing of the evils of your neighbors?" Emma was quick to note the bitter cynicism that lined his deep voice, "I am the High Messenger, Sheakeil, of His Lord Jacuob from the clan of Terraen."

"What then is your message?"

"We are in urgent need of help. Our tribe is under attack from the south..."

"The Calormen?" The young man questioned impulsively.

"Yes. In our most southern region... they have," His voice quivered, "They have slaughtered all... they have ravished... killed even the women and children. senselessly, brutally, andmercilessly."

The few woman among the camp let out sad wails, the men grew angry, and Emma stood there horrified and indifferent. Then, almost instantly, the crowd grew silent, the man from the night before had said something. Emma listened intently as he restated his question to her horror as well as to the horror of the men on the horses.

"And why should we help?"

And to the amazement of Emma, the crowds head began to nod in unison. She was struck by their callous manner. It was barbaric to her. Her indignation grew at this disgusting sign of behavior.

"Please," The messenger pleaded, "I know we have a rocky history with one another, but I ask you not as High Messenger, nor Sheakeil, nor as the servant of Jacuob, or as a clansman of Terraen, but as Westerner, as one of you; please, we beg of you, help us." Silenced followed his desperately passionate speech; a second too long Emma thought nauseatingly.

"We'll have to call a meeting." Was his only response.

Emma was stricken. _Their cruelty! Their stupidity! S_he thoughtangrily. _They seek to only think of themselves and they think not of what the southern clan's downfall will do upon themselves. _

Thus, with impulsiveness and courageousness quite foreign to Emma she took a step forward and belted loudly. "You selfish people! You fools! You think only about yourselves, do you? You heard the man! Men, woman, and children, innocent peoples, are being slaughtered and you stand here with your petty indulgences, your indifference and nauseatingly churlish behavior. These men are in need, and what say you to that?" The crowd had turned, confused and awe-struck. "If you came to these men in your hour of need, when your husbands and wives and sons and daughters and fathers and mothers were being slaughtered, what would you wish them to do? Stand there indifferent? Without a care? I have been here but a short time and you already disgust me!" She inhaled deeply, suddenly realizing the effects of what she had said, and her face grew awfully warm. Emma gulped nervously. _Why on earth did I do that?_

And to her least expectancy, for this was no mere flick in the cinema to which the scriptwas written to please and have a happy ending, the crowds faces grew solemn. They realized their own disdainful nature and they, themselves, were disgusted. They turned their eyes, full of shame,back toward the horsemen and apologetically uttered their penitences. After their apologies were through they grew angry and raised their voices as one yelling things passionately such as, "We'll kill those Calormens!", "We will help our fellow Westerners!" and "The West will notfall!"

Emma looked sheepishly toward the messenger. His gaze was upon her. His expression that of absolute gratitude.

And so, the beginning of a revolution starts, most unexpectedly, thanks to little Emma Mills.

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Ah! Yes, yes, I know it's been a long time since I've updated, but don't worry- _I was really busy with writing AP Language research papers, French papers, and taking final exams_. But seeing as though I have had a break I'm updating! And look forward to next week, it's my spring break so- I'll be updating even more! Please continue to stick with me, **I'm not abandoning this story for my life**. And review too!


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